All Things Go
by QuasiOuster
Summary: Another beta challenge: Dom's thinking about cars and Letty and comes to a realization about both.


_**Author's Note: This is meant to be a longer series of song-related vignettes (something not in my regular rotation) but I haven't gotten around to doing more. I was feeling a little Dom/Letty withdrawal so I thought I would post it anyway. My parameter was 1 hour to write. But I did cheat a little and edit it a bit (it needed it). This is yet another challenge from my beta where I can either incorporate the song (of her choosing) or use line/s to inspire the story. **_

_**My line of inspiration: **_

_**"I fell in love again. All things go, all things go." **_

_**As always, much love to all you Dotty writers and readers. I hope you enjoy!**_

All Things Go

If there's one thing my team knows, it's how to live life. I've always been the kind of guy to live on the edge but especially after being locked up, it was like I didn't want to waste a second of my freedom. That's why I kept people around me, whether it was at the races or the parties at the house. I kept my team close both at work and at play. Vince, my boy since we could barely see over the hood of a car. Little boys old enough to get into big trouble. Leon is always cool with the hookup to the best parties and the best girls. Jessie is the Mad Scientist, kinda goofy and kinda brilliant all at the same time and of course my little sister Mia keeping me grounded on the regular.

Which just leaves Letty. A woman so simple but still so damn complicated. We've been kickin' it pretty tight lately ever since we had a few too many after a race and started to make out. Well, she had had a few too many. I have to admit that I was in complete control of myself. I know I should be ashamed to admit that I took advantage but I don't regret it for a second. I had wanted to kiss her since she was 16 and seemed to turn into a fine ass woman overnight. A guy's gotta answer when opportunity comes knockin'. We're cool though. Not taking things too seriously and just chillin' to see where things go between us.

But when it comes to living large, it's all about my car and the streets. I can remember the first time I reached high velocity behind the wheel of a car. There is nothing like it in the world. It's the best fucking feeling you can imagine. All that power underneath you, on top of you, in your hands but also on the road. Don't get me started about what it means to work on my own car and perfect every detail until it's in tune with everything that's me. It becomes part of me and part of who I am. If I have one love it's the love of the ride. And not just THE ride but MY ride. The one I create for myself.

But now I'm looking over at Letty and she's leaning over my car, fixing something under the hood that we had talked about moments before. I had been meaning to get to it today but got sidetracked. She seems to be much better at getting it modulated just right anyway. She has no idea I'm watching her which is a good thing since I'm noticing that she's looking particularly grungy today. Her hair is plastered against her neck in a messy ponytail. Her tank top is sweat-soaked and ill-fitting in the afternoon heat. Even her loose cargo pants look like they've seen better days with their wrinkled creases and oil stains. She's got a streak of who knows what across her cheek. Whether it's oil or dirt or grease is anyone's guess. But she's the hottest woman on the block to me looking just like that. I know it sounds kinda fucked up but that's my hormones for you.

She's scowling down at my engine in concentration, eyebrow furrowed with exertion. That is until she hits just the right note and a triumphant grin slides across her lips. I see her pull her hand away and stroke the engine with the affection of a proud parent fawning over an obedient child. She knows her shit and she respects the craft.

Somebody asked me a few weeks ago why I was after Letty when I could have any of the hot, willing girls always ridin' me at the races. I think I made some wiseass remark like, "have you ever seen that girl working on my car?" It was a flippant answer but it's true. It's that Letty knows my ride better than anyone else, even better than I do. And I'm starting to think she knows me better than I do and that shit is the scary but damned if it doesn't feel good.

I think about her with my car. I think about the way my car makes me 'me' and how it reacts to her touch. I can't help but finally admit to how that compares to what I feel when I'm with her. She knows me like no other woman ever has. It's not a "thing" when we're hangin' with each other. We work together and play together sometimes as one. And on any day, I live for the feel of her strength and power surrounding me. Her body underneath mine; my body holding onto hers as we move together. We push each other to the extremes and ride that edge, coming down only after we've reached that adrenaline high that comes with the race. But it's not adrenaline. It's desire, passion, possessiveness ...

Damn. Maybe I have two loves and my ride is coming in second. I didn't even know it was happening but I fell in love again.

I can live with that. All things go.

******

_Despite the use of "ride or die" in the song, my line of inspiration was originally from "Chicago" by Sufjan Stevens but taken from a remix of sorts called "A Breakdown in Chicago, or How to Sabotage Your Own Happiness in Two Easy Steps" by the Metermaids (a free download on their website if indie hip-hop is your thing.) _


End file.
